


"Something"

by WritingWithADinosaur



Series: Something / Everything [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Daredevil - Freeform, Daredevil x Reader - Freeform, F/M, Fanfic, Fanfiction, Matt Murdock x reader - Freeform, Matt x reader - Freeform, Matthew Murdock x Reader - Freeform, daredevil fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 21:18:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingWithADinosaur/pseuds/WritingWithADinosaur
Summary: Everything seemed to be going wrong. Breaking clean streaks, getting fired, and more. A walk to clear your mind takes you to a church. When things are this low, maybe this will actually help?





	"Something"

**Author's Note:**

> Matthew Murdock x Reader 
> 
> Word Count: 1,683
> 
> Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color  
> Warnings: Mental disorders, self harm, talk of death, talk of suicide, cursing

Your boyfriend left you for a ‘more attractive and sane” woman, and you were let go from your job because they found a “more suitable candidate” to take your position. Just another week of struggling to make money in an overpopulated town while also dealing with the ever-growing shroud of darkness that loomed in your mind...

_You deserve this all. You can’t even hold a decent job for more than a few months. Not to mention the idea of you not finishing college. What the fuck is your problem? Why are you like this? We don’t need to add another reason as to why you are a no good, stupid fuckin--_

You tried to patch yourself up and sleep off all of the bullshit from today. Even going so far as to have a drink or two before getting under the covers. But when you flipped over under your blanket for the 8th time and saw the clock read 11:14 PM, you let out a deflated “shit…” and knew you weren’t going to get any sleep. 

A walk. That seemed like a halfway decent idea. Maybe a walk could get the last of your energy out so you could get at least a couple hours of sleep before trying to find a job tomorrow. You slipped on some easy clothes, laced up some sneakers, and began your walk around town. You thought it would be mindless, but your inner monologue was more awake than you had hoped. 

_He left you. All because you couldn’t get your shit together. He probably saw your scars and ran away. What are you gonna do now? Walk around? What’s gonna happen if you get jumped or some shit goes down, huh? You really think someone like Daredevil or Punisher or somethin’ would save a piece of shit like you? Yeah, just keep walking. See what happens..._

After 30 minutes of taking random turns to try to calm your thoughts, you ended up somewhere you hadn’t thought of in years: the church. 

Hell’s Kitchen lived up to its name for the most part. There were only blips of peace or quietness. New York in itself was a noisy and dangerous city, but Hell’s Kitchen seemed to keep getting weirder and weirder.  
The church was a good example of one of those places where things wouldn’t feel as hectic. You weren’t very religious because your parents forced you to go to church and listen to the priest do his sermons and whatnot when you were growing up. You hadn’t gone back to the church since your parents passed away a handful of years ago. 

Nowadays, you _tried_ to believe in something, you didn’t know what exactly what, but _something._

Whatever you believed in sure seemed to like your suffering though. 

You took a deep breath and decided to go inside. Maybe for the memories? Maybe just so you could sit down for a few minutes? Maybe just to get out of the constant loudness of the city for a moment?

Walking in, you were met with the vaguely familiar scent of old wood and whatever incense they had burned during mass earlier in the night. The sounds of the outside world didn’t fade away completely, but it was as if someone had kindly turned down the volume so you could hear yourself think clearly. 

Feeling the floorboards and carpet underneath your shoes, you walk down to where you would sit with your parents when you were a child: 8th row, on the inner aisle. You never did like being in the middle of the pews, so you always fought for that aisle seat. After weeks of going with your parents, those became sort of unofficial assigned seats. Sitting down and looking at the altar gave you a weird, indescribable feeling. It was neither good nor bad. So you stayed. 

Sitting there, shutting the bad voice in your head up, you started to do one of the last things you expected yourself to do: _pray_. 

~~~~~~~~

Matthew had been keeping himself busy at night. He couldn’t sleep, and he was still recovering from a more than rough encounter with a gang the previous night, making him unable to put on his suit and let Daredevil watch over the city tonight. So he did what he could to get rid of some energy in hopes of tiring himself out enough to sleep. 

He walked his familiar routes, keeping his walking stick in front of him to keep up the image that he really needed it. He walked past Josie’s, the office, and both Karen and Foggy’s places just to make sure they were all okay. His route ended with him at the church. 

Walking into the building, he smelled the familiar smells and took a seat near the back, close to the doors. He sat there, thinking to himself, letting himself breathe for a moment. It wasn’t until he heard the door quietly open and a woman, slightly out of breath, enter that he shook himself out of his thoughtful haze.  
There were footsteps that were attempted to be quiet. They walked all the way to the 8th row and stopped, then he heard the creaking of the old wooden pew as the woman sat down. Matthew could hear her heart beating at a slightly higher than normal rate. He could hear her sniffling as if she had been crying. He was high alert when he smelled iron from some sort of wound. He couldn’t sense much else. He was about to try to move forward to her when she spoke.

“I’m not too sure how this works anymore. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here. After my parents, I kind of just left. Life got too much. No job, no support, no plans, not even an idea of how I’m supposed to survive, and now I end up here... Where my last memory of this place was death. And I’m sitting here, trying to talk to you as a last resort.

“Maybe it’s some sort of sign that my mind was right. That I am a complete mess up. That I deserve to just end my life and go be with my family up there. Or is that a sin so bad that you wouldn’t let me see them? I don’t remember. Like I said, long time no see...”

You chuckled and paused, taking a few strangled breaths and wiping away a tear with your sweater sleeve. Your voice wasn’t loud, but Matthew could hear it. What you were saying was breaking his heart.  
“Not sure I even believe in you. I could just be talking to the air and sounding like some stupid girl to anyone who is creeping on me in here. 

“But I need to believe in _something_ , right? There _has_ to be some reason I am being faced with all this shit. Oh, my bad! I forgot about the whole no cursing thing. Probably something else that wouldn’t fly with you up there.” 

You took a few seconds, thinking to yourself. You looked down at your arms at the bandages that hid new lines to add to the collection growing on your skin. You let out a shuddering breath at the thought. Matthew could hear you suppressing your tears, wiping away the few that had fallen through. Matthew slowly undid his walking stick and stood up, sneaking his way to the door. He opened and closed it loud enough for you to hear, as if he had just walked in.

You quickly looked back and saw a handsome man finding his way to a seat with his walking stick, hearing the pew bench whine underneath his weight as he sat down, and bowed his head in prayer as you turned your attention back towards the front of the church. You lowered your voice as to not disrupt the new stranger.

“Look. I don’t know if I’m really ready to go yet. But honestly, I need some sort of sign to keep me going. Some sort of light in this suffocating darkness. Nothing huge. Just _something_. Please. I need some sort of _hope…_ ”

You unclasped your hands and gathered your bag, standing up and giving the altar and stained glass another look, wondering if this would be your last time in here. You turned to face the center and took one more deep breath in.

“Even if you’re not there, thank you for the memories. While they weren’t the greatest, they’re the only things I have left nowadays.”

Turning around, you ran your hands over your face and tried to put yourself together enough to make it home in one piece. Matthew had to think quick. You got closer to the doors when he extended his hand slightly and his voice held you in place. 

“Excuse me. Would you mind helping me? I’m not completely sure how to get back home safe. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Sure. You want me to get you a cab?”

“I don’t have my wallet on me. And I know I’m not too far from here. I just don’t know which way is which.”  
“Alright. Um… Where do you live?”

“Park and 11th.”

“That’s actually really close to my place. We’ll just stop there on my way home.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

He stood up and made his way out of his pew, he reached out his hand and found your forearm, feeling the bandage and a few scattered lines that had scarred up. You flinched your arm away instinctively. Matthew instantly understood the marks and felt genuine concern for you.

“I’m so sorry, miss! Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine. Just a cat scratches.” You took his hand and place it on your upper arm, doing your best to control your breathing. “Ready to go?”

“Ready when you are.” He gave you a smile that was contagious and you two headed out of the church.  
“I don’t think I caught your name?”

“(Y/N). What about you?”

“Matthew Murdock. But you can just call me Matt.”


End file.
